Why Mario Batali Never Checks His Luggage

GQ spoke to the chef, restaurateur, and TV personality about how he flies, how he plans his trips, and what he drinks at the airport.

When I meet Mario Batali at Otto, his Manhattan restaurant that slings pizza and pasta and all things Italy, the chef-restaurateur-businessman–TV host is not wearing Crocs. I try not to make a whole thing of it, since we're here to talk about traveling, and how he does it and what he likes, but finally we get to the packing part, and I ask him about his signature orange rubber shoes. He has transitioned to Yeezys, he tells me, and now they are the only shoes he wears. I am flabbergasted.

In reality it's not that shocking: Batali is a man who knows what he wants, and is a man of not necessarily simple pleasures but straightforward pleasures. He likes summers in Michigan, a good cappuccino, accommodations that are more "rustic Italian villa" than "upscale pod hotel." And he has discovered the most brilliant packing-for-home trick you've ever heard of.

Mario Batali: Know what’s a really cool place to go? Well, I don’t know if it’s cool this year—the Alabama Gulf Coast. The food is unbelievable, it’s inexpensive, the beaches are baby-powder white sand for hundreds of miles. Every place you go is like New Orleans, the food is that pure and real—and there’s no Klansmen on the beach! They seem to live in the fucking mountains!

GQ: Well, that’s good. I’ve heard that when you take a big trip, you completely unplug, no e-mail—is that true?
Completely. And I send out a funny little e-mail that lets you know that I will not see your e-mail ever, and if you know my assistant’s number you can call her, but if you don’t, I’m not giving it to you. Because I think e-mail has become such an easy, cracky way to keep throwing shit out into the thing—people think it’s their job now to read your e-mails. It used to be that e-mail, when it started, was a quick way to save some time. Now it’s this relentless hourlong slog to get through these things that you could have taken care of on a phone call.

Where do you usually go on these big trips?
[Pulling up a photo on his phone of a very nice-looking beach] Right here. Guess where that is.

The beach?
Traverse City, Michigan. It is my heaven.

And is that your main personal vacation place?
Well, that’s that kind of vacation. And then there’s my exotic travel, then there’s my work travel...I have like four modes.

Tell me about the exotic travel.
Exotic travel generally involves going to a place I’ve never been. I trust my travel agent implicitly, who knows exactly what I’m looking for.

You have a travel agent!
I do. A guy named Mikey Holtz, at a company named Smart Flyer—I’ve been working with him for 20 years. He gets it. I will turn down no potential upgrade, I want really nice and comfortable spaces, I like classic and old as opposed to new, funky, and edgy—I like central locations, or country locations, but not suburban locations. I wanna be on the piazza, or I wanna be in a tiny little town in the middle of bumfuck.

Do you think there are any places that are under-appreciated right now?
I would say that although Spain is taking a lot of people right now, like, there’s a lot of parts of Spain that people don’t understand. La Coruña, in the northwestern coast; the parts of Portugal that aren’t developed are fantastic right now, but the developed shit is all cement, so why would you go there? I keep thinking Croatia is going to be the next big spot, and people still aren’t going there. In Italy I think Puglia’s the next big spot, and I’ve been saying that for a decade, and [people] just don’t go there. If they knew that Lecce was the baroque Florence, they would probably go there.

So if you’re going on, say, a ten-day vacation, what’s in your carry-on?
I don’t check luggage—never. That’s a rookie move, girl. They do laundry in hotels. There’s no reason not to. And even when I’m coming home, I have them do my laundry, because I like to put it in my little shelves all folded up like they do at a hotel.

That is—
It’s a luxury. Imagine getting home with clean clothes! It’s fantastic. It’s almost like a souvenir. It’s folded up with a little bow. Fantastic.

So in my carry-on is three of everything. Three shirts, three shorts, three underwear, three T-shirts, two vests, one jacket if I need it, one pair of long pants, that’s it. I don’t travel with a lot of shoes.

Do you bring the Crocs with you?
I’m away from Crocs now. I’m onto the Yeezys, just this week. And I will wear them everywhere. One pair of shoes is what I travel with.

So you’ve ended the Crocs—
I’ve ended the Crocs relationship, and I’ve moved on to Yeezys. Crocs are very comfortable—there’s nothing wrong with Crocs—it’s just that I’m moving on.

One pair of shoes, that’s all I travel with. I’m not going to bring a big bag of clothes. I’m not impressing anybody—if you go to Italy, they’re dressing better than me no matter what. So I don’t have to pretend I’m going to dress better than them.

Do you take food home with you? Are you gonna smuggle a porchetta back with you?
I have been known to carry a golf bag specifically for that. Well, I also play golf—so when jamón serrano [was illegal], you would bring one or two home in your golf bag. But now [almost] everything I want is legal.

And do you cook a lot when you travel?
If I go on a vacation, like, if we’re going to go skiing in Deer Valley, which I love to do, we generally get the kind of condo that has a couple bedrooms, a kitchen, and a nice balcony overlooking the mountain. I don’t cook every night, but it gives me the opportunity to cook one or two nights so we can avoid the restaurant fatigue that kind of sets in. You get your rip-roaring fire, I make some pasta or I make some steaks that I brought with me, and we have a nice simple, easy meal.

When I go to Venice, my Venice strategy is to rent a house and get a 24-hour launch driver, which changes Venice completely. You have a boat that stays in your building, and when you want to go out on your boat, you go out on your boat. And there’s a guy that drives it for you. So I stay in a house, and I go out one meal, and I cook home one meal every day. Because there’s the Rialto market, and the first thing I do every morning is with my launch driver before everyone gets up [Ed: here he begins to speak very fast]. I go down, I have a cappuccino, I shop a little bit, I have a tiny little beer, a mortadella sandwich, I finish up, I go home. I either make lunch, or I make dinner.

That, for me, is better than going out to dinner every night. Because no matter where you go, restaurants tend to rely more on protein than I would like. I would rather eat more vegetables.

What do you think people get wrong when they’re traveling?
They rely a lot on the guidebooks for gastronomy. If you’re gonna go to Minneapolis, call the paper, talk to the food editor, and ask them questions. My question is always, if you were to go away from this town for two years, where would the first thing you’d go to eat when you got back? And who would make it? Then you find out what’s the most regional and delicious dish. It takes a little time to find those people, but not much more time than it takes to find that guidebook.

Last question: What’s your airport drink of choice?
Bloody Mary.

You can’t really fuck up a Bloody Mary.
No. And even if you do, those little cans of the pre-made Bloody Mary mix—I’d recognize exactly what they are. They’re a little salt bomb—they’re gonna make me a little squirmy, but it’s gonna get through. And if that isn’t available, I like a good beer. Easily the most high-quality product there. What’s yours? Do you like drinking fucking Vitaminwater or something?